View From The Shed by Shaun Finnie - HAPPY HOLIDAYS?

HAPPY HOLIDAYS?

If you’ve ever seen me at RSPB Old Moor’s Welcome Shed or even seen my picture on these blogs you’ll know that I usually wear my big Tilley canvas hat while volunteering. I bought my first one over 25 years ago in Canada and it’s safe to say that it’s seen better days. I’ve had two replacements since then but the original is still fit for purpose, if a bit worn, stained and generally wrecked. I rarely bring it out of the house these days but last week I gave it an airing.

The special occasion was a trip to the Farne Islands off the Northumberland Coast. These islands are famous for their nesting Puffins (of which we saw plenty) but also for the large number of Arctic Terns that lay their eggs there. We’ve had a few at Old Moor recently. There are none at the moment but at the time of writing you might see a few Common Terns on site. All Terns (and Arctics in particular) are very protective of their offspring so sturdy headwear is recommended. Forewarned is forehatted so the well-loved titfer came out of retirement. And it was very much needed. Within minutes of arrival on the island we saw the Terns, hundreds of them, milling through the air, sitting on their rough scrape of a nest or just plonked atop a fencepost keeping watch. We stayed on the paths as all good nature watchers should but they didn’t care. As soon as we got close (too close?) they defended their nests, with a vigour. 

Now an Arctic Tern is a small, delicate-looking bird and I’m…  let’s just say I’m a lot bigger than they are. All credit to them, the size difference didn’t deter them one jot. They dived, pecking at the tallest part of the tallest person (that would be me), hoping to maim, injure or just annoy, anything to protect their nest from the perceived danger that was me. My battered old hat did sterling work in protecting my battered old head from their sharp and persistent pecking. Others on our trip hadn’t taken the warnings seriously and had insufficient or non-existent head protection. Suffice to say, blood was spilled, and it was all human.

At the time I thought that the attacking birds were sweet and even great fun in their righteous anger. Visions of Alfred Hitchcock ran through my mind. It was an excellent experience on an excellent day out. 

Well, for me it was. But what about the Terns? I pondered their side of the encounter back on the mainland, over a pie and a pint. I’d had fun but I doubt they’d enjoyed the experience half as much. From their point of view this massive interloper was threatening their chicks and as I’ve said many times in these blogs, the entire point of a bird’s life is to pass on its genes to the next generation. I was a risk to their continued bloodline and as such they had to put huge effort into driving me away. I guessed that there were at least fifty people on our boat and there were about six tourist boats landing per day. And every moment the birds spent attacking me and my like was a moment that they can’t keep their eggs or subsequent chicks warm.

The National Trust who run the island assured me that they monitor this situation closely and if the temperature is particularly cold then they’ll call a halt to further sailings that day so as to let the birds incubate without human disturbance, so in this instance at least it seems all is well. So that’s good for the chicks in question but not so much for the boat companies who depend on these sailings. That’s a further consideration for this problem.

In the past I’ve gone on many cruises from the Baltic to Alaska. I’ve driven the entire coast of North America from the top of Canada down to Mexico. I’ve travelled throughout Scandinavia, through Russia and all around Europe. What other species have I unwittingly affected in a similar way as those Terns? And my holiday flights are undoubtedly increasing my carbon footprint and adding to the effects of global warming. 

How can I continue to travel to see the places and birds that I wish to while living with the knowledge that even being within viewing distance of these creatures I’ve unwittingly changed their habitat in ways that I can’t even begin to imagine?

We’re becoming more conscious of our food miles - the distance over which our foodstuffs travel from the provider to our plate - but what about our tourism miles? Is it possible to travel guilt free, at least relatively? 

There are many different terms involved. You might hear the following. I’ve tried to sum them up as best I can:

Ethical tourism requires the business involved to take corporate responsibility for any effects caused by their tours;

Responsible tourism holds individual tourists accountable for their choices and impact on society and the environment;

Ecotourism focuses primarily on experiencing and learning about nature,with minimal disruption or effect to the area involved, while trying to keep all economic benefits to a local level;

Sustainable tourism looks at the whole economic, social and environmental effects of the traveller and how they can improve the local culture and ecosystems.

Some of the lines between these concepts are blurry but the general idea is simple; “Leave it better than you found it”. Thankfully there are quite a few travel companies that focus on these kinds of holidays and operate under these ideals. But the sad truth is that if I want to visit Australia, Brazil or the Galapagos (and they’re all on my wishlist) then my trip will undoubtedly change those places in some tiny way. And as more and more people visit then those tiny effects add up, massively.

Sadly I have no answers to these moral conundra. I suspect that there are no easy ones. For now I’ll just try and do as much as I can for nature and hope that I can live with myself for any damage that I inadvertently cause. “Leave it better than you found it” seems to be a good maxim to live by.

I’ll end with the old saying about travelling; “Take nothing but photographs, leave nothing but footprints”. And please, be very careful where you choose to tread.